Scotch and Serial Killers
by Zofie C. Field
Summary: Lincoln and Castle are forced to spend the day together.


_Note: In case you're not familiar with the cast of characters (none of which are mine):_

_From **Castle**:_

_Det. Kate Beckett (NYPD homicide detective and inspiration for the character Nikki Heat) and Richard Castle (Beckett's famous mystery writer shadow and author of the Nikki Heat books)_

_From **Jeffery Deaver's Lincoln Rhyme Novels**:_

_Lincoln Rhyme (Brilliant quadriplegic criminalist), Amelia Sachs (NYPD detective, Lincoln's legs at crime scenes), and Thom (Lincoln's aide/ mother hen/ nemesis)  
_

* * *

"Beckett? Please... "

"Sorry Castle. Amelia doesn't like anyone messing with her crime scenes."

"I'll be good. I'll stay in the car!"

"No such luck buddy. You're track record is less than outstanding."

With that, Kate Beckett turned and strode to the open door where Amelia Sachs was waiting. Amelia winked once at Lincoln Rhyme, who rolled his eyes at her. She smiled and followed Kate out the door.

* * *

Lincoln Rhyme had heard about Richard Castle. Pammy, Sachs surrogate niece, was a dedicated tabloid reader, and had taken to spouting off celebrity gossip whenever given the chance. Lincoln was less than impressed with Castle's wild child reputation.

The room had been tense since before the girls had left. Upon seeing Lincoln for the first time, Castle had the reaction Lincoln hated the most. He had stared at Lincoln's immobile legs and then talked to someone else. They had been in the same room for an hour at this point, and Castle had yet to make eye contact with Lincoln. Being a famous author who was constantly in the public's eye, he had expected Castle would have a little more tact.

"Soooo….." Castle mumbled as he fiddled with the dials on the mass spectrometer. Lincoln would have given up alcohol for a year to be able to smack Castle's hands at that moment.

"Please don't touch that. The equipment is very sensitive."

"Ha, that's what she said."

Lincoln stared at Castle, who was smirking and had finally looked him in the eye. One second, two seconds, three seconds of a stony gaze from Lincoln before Castle's face fell. His hands wandered towards a microscope, and had it not been for Thom walking in, Lincoln might just have killed him. Murder by a Storm Arrow Wheelchair.

* * *

Castle had been looking forward to meeting Lincoln Rhyme. That is, he had been looking forward to meeting Lincoln until Kate explained that he would not be allowed to come to the crime scene. He had begged and pleaded with her. He had promised her a pony and a week free of CIA conspiracy theories, but to no avail.

For a moment, when he and Kate had walked into Lincoln's tricked out townhouse, Castle had thought this might not be such a terrible morning after all. That was until he saw Lincoln, and every intelligent thought left his head, to be replaced only by juvenile jokes. So he'd clamped his mouth shut and said nothing. The room was tense to begin with, and once the girls had left, the tension snowballed to almost an unbearable level. That had lead to the mass spectrometer incident, which had lead to that fateful joke. He'd let his guard down for a second and that damn joke had slipped out. The look Lincoln gave him was so cold he started seriously considering the window as a valid escape option.

Thank goodness for Thom.

* * *

"Mr. Castle, can I get you a cup of coffee? Something to eat?"

Castle, still slightly paralyzed from the joke-gone-bad, glanced up at Thom with a small smile and scratched the back of his head nervously. "I sure could use a stiff drink right about now…"

Thom (the host extraordinaire) turned to Lincoln disapprovingly. Lincoln glared back, but his face quickly morphed from annoyed to devious.

Understanding where this was going, Thom cut Lincoln off before the words made it out of his mouth.

"No, Lincoln. It's only 11. That's the last thing your blood pressure needs this morning."

"Thom. Don't be a bad host. The man wants a drink. Pour us some scotch would you. "

"Lincoln…"

"Fine. You're fired. Richard, the liquor cabinet is there in the corner, behind that microscope you've been fondling."

To this Thom rolled his eyes, announced that he'd be back with coffee in a moment (with a pointed look at Castle), and left the room.

* * *

Castle was hesitant. He wasn't particularly fond of getting stuck between Lincoln and his equally stubborn aide. All his hesitation vanished however when he opened the doors to the liquor cabinet.

"Oh. My. Gosh. Is that what I think it is?" Castle spun towards Lincoln gesturing excitedly towards the cabinet. "I've been trying to get my hands on one of these for years! There are only 50 in existence!"

"Ah yes. It was a gift from the Spanish ambassador. Amelia and I solved a case involving two Spanish diplomats earlier this year. Well, go on. I would open it myself but…" Lincoln glanced down at his still arms and then back Castle with a small smile.

Lincoln was astonished when the man who had been torturing him for the last hour suddenly turned giddy over a 100 year old bottle of scotch. He had briefly considered staring Castle down once again, but after a mental nudge from Amelia, Lincoln gave the man a break.

After all, it was 5 o'clock somewhere.

* * *

An hour later Amelia and Kate trudged up the townhouse steps.

"Let's cross our fingers Castle hasn't annoyed Lincoln to death," Kate joked.

"I think Lincoln scowling Castle to death is more likely!" Amelia retorted with a laugh. The two women had become fast friends, bonding over tales of the antics of their stubborn partners and memories of the police academy. They had also talked about falling in love with their best friends (Amelia having been in Kate's position not so many years ago), but that conversation would stay between them.

They opened the door to townhouse and came face to face with a harried Thom.

"I tried to stop them. Lincoln's bad enough, but now that he's got a partner in crime…" And with that, Thom huffed off towards the kitchen.

The girls, fearing bloodshed, turned the corner and were greeted by the sight of the two (slightly tipsy) men, an open bottle of scotch, and what appeared to be several dozen forensics books. Castle was writing wildly on a large whiteboard and extolling the literary merits of serial killers, as Lincoln shouted out gruesome crime scene tidbits. The girls arrived just in time to hear Castle shout, "Cannibalism! Awesome! We could call it _Meat Heat_!"

**The End.**

* * *

_Thank you for reading!_


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